Can I get an amen to how mother effing hard this stay at home mom/cook/homeschool teacher/maid/Correctional officer/faith builder/Driver/tutor/personal assistant/seamstress/counselor /everything else under the sun gig is on a person? Some days, and this is one of those days 100% for sure “OMG “I would rather have the hardest job I’ve ever had instead of doing this… Yes it’s rewarding yes I love it yes I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

But oh my hell, it is so effing hard! Please… Can I get an AMEN!? And tell me how you guys are doing today…

How do you rise up when you’re broken? How can you possibly pick them up, when the pieces scattered on the ground are you? What if you are not only shattered but are also physically too exhausted to even think about doing more for your state of mind?

Miserable. It’s what you’ve become. The only way you can get out is to get help and get more sleep. For someone to swoop in and save you… Finally let you rest. To fight the battle for you even for just one day.

But I’ve discovered one more thing that you can do and it’s nearly impossible. But if you can manage to do it… If you can summon just an ounce more and make one more choice. Hard… Or as impossible as it may seem… it will change you.

It will change your day and change the direction that your heart your mind and your life are going.

What is it?

Gratefulness.

Yes I’m sure… The last thing that you want to think about. Being grateful, being thankful for what you have. For what you don’t have. Because sometimes what you have can seem to be so little. So as your world falls apart and your brokenness swallows you, why and how can you be grateful?

Say it out loud.

Even if every fiber in you resists and doesn’t believe the words squeaking out of your mouth. Just say words of gratefulness out loud. What are you thankful for? A soft blanket? The way your kid smiles at his baby sister? That it isn’t raining today? Anything, small or big.Image

Just try it. What do you have to lose?

It’s such an obvious start to changing your day, your week, changing YOU. But it has to come out of your lips and blossom–like a fragile sprout from the cold ground, clinging to every glimpse of sunlight. Let your small but crucial thank you’s rise up, and you will feel your heart lighten and open up to something we are all thirsting to find:

Why do we still have Columbus Day as a national holiday??? I don’t know of anyone who is actually celebrating the things he “accomplished” now that we, as a nation, know what those things were. And also what he didn’t accomplish. Namely, actually landing on North America. But at least he helped us learn more about trade winds. 🙄 Thoughts?

I’m not perfect. That’s not an excuse. Just fact. I need to be forgiven a lot, and not always by people that understand forgiveness.

My kids don’t quite get the enormity of both the offense and the requested forgiveness. They are resilient. Little bouncy balls of love that haven’t quite tasted the bitterness of life yet.

Last night my middle child kept waking. Each time I would lay back down after trying a different technique to help him get back to sleep. I would just about be asleep when he would start to whimper and cry.

“Mommy…”

Each time I went back in, I would lose a little bit more of my patience. He got more and more timid, with fresh, innocent hurt welling up in his eyes.

1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am…in and out every 20 minutes. Then he comes in and wakes the baby. Now she is cooing and giggling in her bassinet as if to say “goodmorning mommy, is it time?”

No. Faaaaaaack no I haven’t even freaking gone to sleep yet! The enormity of that realization and what it means for me for that day hits me like a slap across my cheek.

Instead of trusting it will all work out fine, anxiety kicks in and I yell in my toddler’s tired face. “JUST FUCKING GO. TO. SLEEP!!!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!?????”

His Trusting eyes narrow into disbelief. This is my mommy. The banisher of monsters, the singer of peace, the soother of growing limbs. Such anger in my eyes, glaring at him, the betrayal he feels is tangible in the darkened space between us.

He’s my sensitive soul. The one that tells me he “wuvs me to da moon”. In that moment I feel like I’ve broken the close tie between us. Would he ever forgive me for being so hateful? Does he even know what it means to forgive?

He starts to sob and tremble. My son literally trembled in fear.

I start to cry as well. Feeling like a lost child trying to be the adult. I don’t always know what to say or what to do. If it will break them or raise them up.

I pull him to me. Praying he won’t push me away. He melts into my arms and I lay down with him on one side and the baby nursing on the other. He falls asleep in about 5 minutes and, miraculously, the baby as well. Finally, we rest.

In the morning I ask for forgiveness and he looks at me like nothing happened.